


Like A Disney Villian

by RedValkyrie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Freeform, Gen, Interrogation, Monologue, Scary Dean Winchester, Threats of Violence, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 12:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17549630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedValkyrie/pseuds/RedValkyrie
Summary: They say it takes ten thousand hours to get really good at something. By that metric, Dean is extremely good at torture.





	Like A Disney Villian

You know how they say you need ten thousand hours to get good at something? You hear that number, and you think, sure, that’ll take some commitment, but I’ll just pick up the guitar or something, and it’ll be done in no time. What you don’t realize is that even if you practice for three hours every single day, it’ll still take you over nine years to get to ten thousand. Nine years. Can you imagine? Of course, that’s just for a hobby you’re really dedicated to. If we’re talking a nine to five job, it’ll be about three and a half years until you’re really good at it.

You asked if I really think I could make you scream? I think I can. You see, this was my job for a really long time. A job, and a hobby. In fact, it was my whole life -- or death, really, but that’s another story -- and I didn’t just do it every day. I had the best damn teacher who has ever held a straight razor.

Skinning someone alive, now that is a true artform. The first few years, I was just too damn impatient to even try it. I just didn’t see the appeal. Why bother carefully peeling someone’s skin off when you can just crush every bone in their body and choke them on their own intestines in a fraction of the time? Hah. I was an idiot, but I learned eventually. Skinning has a special place among torture. It requires finesse, but when done right, people will literally gnaw off their own fingers to escape the pain. Every single square inch of you burn when you peel off the protective layers, like you’re drowning in lava, only you don’t burn, and you pray to the only God left -- me -- to make it end, to go back to smashing bones in the hopes that maybe, somewhere some nerves will be damaged and you’ll get a few seconds of relief in one spot.

And when you’re done with the skin and they are naked in front of you? That’s the best part. You see, when you’ve done it right, they’ll stay alive for a few more seconds, wide eyed because they have no eyelids, snarling because they have no lips, wishing they could fly so they wouldn’t have to touch the table they are strapped to. They know they’re done for. You can see it in their eyes. They don’t scream anymore at this point. They’ve given up trying to resist, escape, kill you, kill themselves. By this point, they’ve already given you all the information you need, plus some.

And you look down at them, thinking that boy, all those years practicing and messing it up, sitting in front of a writhing body carefully making incisions that keep going the wrong way, peeling skin that tears and breaks apart in your hands, ending up having to practically whittle it off with the knife, all those years were worth it.

I am objectively good at skinning people alive. Some days, I wonder whether that is something to be proud of. Then I remember that I have never been a very disciplined person, and that this is one of the few skills I put everything into. It’s one of the few things I know that my Dad didn’t force on me. See, this came during this transformative time in my life. I was kind of finding myself, as cliche as it sounds, and changing as a person, maybe for the worst, but still changing, it helped me a lot.

These days I try to hold on to some semblance of civility, but what is the point of having this skill if I’m never going to use it? Now, where was I? Oh right, torturing you. Sorry, sometimes I get carried away. I used to laugh at the villains in Disney movies too, but evil really does make you want to monologue. Was there anything you wanted to say to me before we begin? Here, I’ll remove the gag.

“Yeah, Sammy. He told me everything.”

“No, I’m sure he wasn’t lying.”

“Nah, I’ll handle the body. You just go do what needs to be done.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you at the motel. Don’t forget the pie.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make me happy.


End file.
